"Happy Birthday, Dad..."

I was torn as to whether or not to write a Father's Day post about my Dad... since his birthday was going to be just a few days later, I decided to wait and write a birthday post...

June 23rd...

Today is my Dad's Birthday...

Grandmother Brown, Aunt Winnie, and Dad...

If Dad were still alive, I would have a great deal of difficulty imagining his age...

I know I have posted about having come along late in Mom and Dad's lives... and about how I have a sister old enough to be my Mom...

Dad has been gone 15 years... I still carry a great deal of guilt about how I treated him over some issues... I guess I will regret how I treated him until I die...  I hope he has forgiven me...

There's a lot going on now in my Life... according to feedjit, someone from my community is logging on and readying my blog... so I feel a little inhibited to write about some things now...

Mom and Dad had six children (two litters) and it appears that it is just a matter of time before the 'children' begin to die...

So it goes, huh?

I expressed myself rather well, I think, when I wrote about Dad Here back in February... 

There's a new set of stressors that have arisen... and I just don't feel that I can write about them now...

My hives have returned... 

A younger Dad...

It's been a long time, Dad... it is still difficult for me to think about you and Mom and not cry... you told me a few times that men aren't supposed to cry... well, I just can't help it...

I love you...

I miss you...

~shoes~

"I Miss You, Dad..."

On February 22, 1996, at about 7:00 P.M., my Dad died. He suffered a stroke early sometime on Valentines' Day eight days prior...


My Life would undergo great changes in the weeks and months to come.  I didn't expect the older three siblings (first litter) to side and plot against the three younger siblings (second litter).  I didn't expect the sister that I now try to care for on a fairly regular basis to treat us the way she did... to screw us over the way that she did...


But Death does strange things to families...  I have an older brother with whom I haven't spoken since the day we buried Dad. I have another sister with whom I have just recently made the effort to talk to and see...


But to be quite honest, the damage has been done. If I never see them again in my Life, I will be quite ok with that...


My Dad is a young man in this photo.  The building to his left is the remaining mule barn where he and his Dad bought and sold mules here in the Mississippi Delta back in the 30's... Behind him and down the street, you can make out the outline of what appears to be an early model Ford... And for the Mississippi Delta, that's a great deal of snow on the ground.


Dad, I am sorry... truly sorry... that I didn't figure out so many things sooner than I did.  I should have made the decision to have forgiven you for some things before you had your stroke.  You weren't perfect, but then again, none of us are.  For so long, I had imagined you to be perfect... Maybe Mom shouldn't have shared a hurt that she suffered from you, but she did... and I shouldn't have been so hard on you, but I was...


In retrospect (it's always this way, isn't it?), I want to thank you for the wonderful work ethic that you taught me.  I am who I am today because of you... and I mean that in the most wonderful way...


Maybe you didn't always make time for us, because you worked... you worked to raise your second family... after your first set of children with Mom had moved out and on with their Lives...


I remember Mom once telling someone that you two "had a set of kids for us to take care of... and another set to take care of us..."


I'm glad it worked out that way, Dad.  You loved us the best way you knew how to love us... and you did... you did love us.


I have written this thing over and over and over the past few days... and haven't liked any of them... and I'm not sure this one does you justice. Dad...


I would give anything to be sitting in that old Hudson with you... driving over to the Mississippi River "to see what's going on..." and maybe we would stop at one of the old country stores that dotted the Delta back then... and we would go in and you would buy a rootbeer... These places would have the old ice boxes... they would load them up with drinks and ice early in the day... and by the time we would get there, the water would have partially melted... it would be with such great anticipation that we would open the top of that ice box, and see the drinks down below... and the icy water would be SO cold that it would take your breath from you when you would reach down into the box to get your drink.

It's the smallest things that I remember tonight, Dad... the smallest things that you would do for me that would tell me that you loved me... that you loved all of your children...


Fifteen years... in a way, it's been SO long, and yet, in another way, it seems it was only yesterday...  


I had this dream a few years ago in which you and I were in San Francisco... on the City side of the Bay, and we were looking across over to the Marin County side.  You asked if we could go over there and see that side of the Bay, and I told you of course we could, and I took your hand... and I felt you. I felt your presence that night, and I immediately awakened with a start.  It was as if you were there.


I try to be the kind of Dad to my kids that you and Mom were parents to us... I hope I've succeeded... I would be terribly disappointed if I haven't been...

I miss you so much, Dad...

Each and every day...

I love you...

Your son,

~Jim~

Dad Has A Stroke

I got a phone call early on Feb 14, 1996 from my oldest sister... she told me that she had gone over to Dad's house to check on him... he had fallen... and couldn't get up... she needed me to come and help...

This same sister had designated herself "Official Keeper of Dad"... and had all of the locks changed on his house... so no one but her could get in to "check" on Dad...  "He's safer if there are no extra keys out there...", she said...

Yeah... right...

By the time I got to Dad's, Sister had called the police and the EMTs... when I got into his house, he was on the floor... very disoriented... I knelt on the floor beside him... and touched him... and told him I was "here"... and he turned and looked at me and asked... "Who are you?"   Dad had had a stroke...  I told Dad that it didn't matter, but he was going to be OK...

When Dad was loaded into the ambulance, he was taken to the hospital...  Sister asked me to go with Dad... she needed to go check on her husband and their business...  Of course I would go to the hospital with Dad...

By the time I got there, Dad was in his examination room in the ER... and we were waiting for my buddy, Barry... he was my Dad's doctor... Dad was laying on his right side... facing away from me... I was sitting to his back... and I sat there and just rubbed his back the entire time... letting him know he wasn't alone... at one point, Dad rolled over and looked at me... and called me 'Jimmy'... and told me... "it feels so good to not be alone..."  Sister never understood that she was keeping Dad away from contact... my brothers and myself...   All he had for company the last years of his life was when Sister would come over and visit...

When Barry arrived... and checked Dad out... he confirmed that he had experienced a stroke and was going to be admitted...  I knew Dad was 90... and wouldn't survive... that we were entering the last days of Dad's Life...

And I so wasn't ready for that...

"Dreams..."

One of my favorite songs is "Dreams"... by The Allman Brothers Band, but oddly enough I like the cover that Molly Hatchet did better...

"Mimi writes" wrote of a dream about her Dad... and it made me think of a dream I had about my Dad... it was a few years after he died... I think those that we love... those that we lose... do come and visit us... check on us... and remind us from time to time that they are doing quite well...

My most vivid dream of my Dad "occurred" in San Francisco... I have this connection to this city that I will write about some time...  I had issues with my Dad... things that were resolved just before he died... I loved my Mom so much... and he hurt her... Mom told me about these things... and I know it hurt her to tell me, but she must have felt she could tell me... that I could be trusted with this awful thing...

Anyway...

In the dream, Dad and I are standing on the edge of San Francisco Bay... looking  across to the Marin County side... the hills of Marin County in my dream are mountains... huge... majestic... I don't know the symbolism of this...  and I am standing beside my Dad...


Dad was 90 when he died...  Our roles are reversed... in that I am the 'parent' figure... and Dad is the 'child' but we were our respective ages as at his death... when I was a kid, Dad called me "Jimmy"... evidently, so much that we had a parakeet that would sing out "Jimmy" whenever I would come into the room...  Mom told me this...

Anyway...

Dad and I are standing there... looking across the Bay... and Dad asks... "Jimmy... can we go over to the other side and look?" And I tell my Dad.. "Sure.. of course we can..."...

And at that moment, I reach down and grab his hand... and I FELT it... I FELT my Dad's hand... my Dad had such a "meaty" hand... it felt unlike any other hand I had ever held... and I was so shocked by that, that I instantly woke up.... and I cried... I wanted to see my Dad... I wanted to talk to him... I wanted to tell him that I loved him... and that I forgave him for what he did to hurt My Mom...

I tell Dad all of the time that I forgive him...  I'm not sure why I talk to Dad more than I talk to Mom... I was definitely closer to Mom... yet, I talk to Dad... I wonder what connection it has with his Mother that I wrote about back in October...???

I miss my Mom and Dad... they get further away from me each and every day that they are gone... no one knows how much I miss them...